


i'm not gonna write you a love song (except that i am)

by bottomoftheocean



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, and luke wants to know what's inside, highschool!au, michael has a journal, their history teacher actually stans muke so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomoftheocean/pseuds/bottomoftheocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>michael always sits in the back corner of the classroom quietly, just writing in his journal.<br/>luke has been admiring his beauty from afar for a while but has been afraid to say anything.<br/>one day, mikey leaves his journal behind and luke takes it.<br/>naturally, he opens it.</p><p>(lowercase intended)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm not gonna write you a love song (except that i am)

**Author's Note:**

> so i found this imagine on instagram except for it was het with mikey and so i thought it would be 2846753x cuter if i made it into a muke fic so here we are c:
> 
> story title taken from "love song" by sara bareilles

when michael even so much as moved an inch, luke noticed.

he supposed it was hard not to, what with the boy’s fluorescent green hair. but that wasn’t the entire reason, no matter how luke denied it.

he was beautiful. a work of art, hidden away in the back corner of the room. never saying a word, unless forced by the teacher. usually he just sat there silently, head bowed and sharpie or pencil marking the pages of his journal. by now, luke had begun to notice when he used a pencil and when he used a sharpie. the ink was for words, and the graphite was saved for drawings which, though luke had never seen inside the journal, he could imagine were just as beautifully intricate as the face of the boy drawing them.

it was funny, because luke had never said a word to the other boy, but had already learned many of his mannerisms just by stealing glances in history class.

today the beautiful boy marked the pages with thin, black lines. luke could only imagine what words he scrawled onto the paper.

luke tried to focus on the lesson. really, he did. he found the revolutionary war as intriguing as the next guy. but in all honesty… all of them had already died. and michael was very alive, curled into himself in the back corner of the room.

“i know you’ve all been taught this many times before, so. can anyone tell me who i’ve been talking about?” the teacher said, bringing luke back to attention. he raised his hand, because who didn’t know who paul revere was?

“yes, luke?”

“clearly you’re talking about paul revere,” the blond boy responded boredly.

“no need to be snarky, mr. hemmings,” the teacher scolded.

“i’m deeply sorry, mr. pike.”

luke heard a snort from the back corner of the room. when he cast his glance back, the green-haired boy was smirking down at his journal. he had switched to pencil, and luke wondered what in the world he was drawing.

as per usual. luke couldn’t think about much other than michael and his journal in history.

“mr. clifford, do you have anything to add?” mr. pike said, using the same chiding tone he had with luke.

michael shrugged. “no, mr. pike. i don’t have anything at all to add. i think luke was pretty straightforward in answering your question.” the blond boy froze. his name had just come out of michael’s mouth. _his_ name. luke didn’t even believe in angels but he was damn sure that this boy was one.

“one more outburst from either of you and you both have detention this afternoon,” mr. pike decided.

luke risked another glance back to the corner of the room, to find that michael had actually looked up from his notebook for once. their eyes met and luke swore he would never be able to move again.

the boy’s eyes were nearly the same shade of green as his hair, and luke didn’t know how that was even possible. the direct view of michael’s face was quite a pleasant sight -- though luke still refused to admit to himself that he was actually _attracted_ to him -- and a small smile crossed luke’s face.

michael returned the expression and luke thought his eyes were going to melt from the perfection.

mr. pike asked luke a question he didn’t know the answer to, misinterpreted his frustration as an “outburst,” and, as promised, stuck both he and michael into detention, because apparently they were “in cahoots” or something.

after that, neither spoke for the remainder of class. michael spent his time staring at the wall, and luke spent his time staring out the window, but both were concerned only with thoughts of the other.

-

once the bell finally rang, most of the class filed out of the room. they were able to go home, but luke and michael were stuck there for an extra hour with mr. pike.

“i assume you boys know why you’re here?” he asked as soon as they were the only two left in the room.

“actually, i’m honestly not quite sure,” luke replied. “like, i know you said something about an outburst or whatever but i was just confused, so…”

“mr. hemmings, i will not tolerate your tone of voice any longer.”

“actually, mr. pike, no offense, but luke has a point.” there it was. the name again. “i don’t think either of us really know why we’re here.”

the teacher sighed. “mr. clifford, mr. hemmings, i have made it clear what i expect from you, and currently i am receiving the opposite. i don’t want to be that teacher. but i will be. and neither of you are leaving here until i get what i expect.”

luke rolled his eyes, but thought enough not to speak again. michael simply returned to the pages of his journal.

it was only ten minutes before mr. pike realized that michael wasn’t doing classwork and took his journal. “mr. pike, i need that-” he tried to protest.

“mr. clifford,” the man warned with a glare. michael let go of the journal and pulled out some homework. he didn’t do much of anything, though. all he really wanted was the journal.

luke almost thought he saw his own name doodled over the pages of lined paper michael was supposed to be using for math homework. but then he convinced himself that he was simply making things up to create something interesting within this hour.

-

the hour finally ran out, and mr. pike let the two boys go for the weekend. “i’ll be seeing you boys in class on monday. you’d better behave then, or you’ll be spending another lovely afternoon here.”

luke went to say something to michael, but the green-haired boy didn’t respond. instead, he finished gathering up his things and rushed out of the room.

 _without_ his journal.

mr. pike noticed before luke, and went calling after him, “mr. clifford!” but michael was already long gone.

“um, mr. pike?”

“yes, luke?”

“i can get that to michael, if you want,” luke lied. “i’ll probably see him before you.”

“i suppose, but don’t go looking through it. god only knows what could be in there.”

the man handed the book to luke, and the tall boy stowed it in his backpack for safekeeping.

as he headed towards his car, he could only think about what was in that journal, and how he might be able to get away with looking inside.

he had all weekend, after all.

-

luke really tried to avoid the urge to see inside michael’s private thoughts. really, he did. but the thought of that beautiful, mysterious boy left so much inside the blond boy’s head to wonder.

he made it until late saturday night without peeking.

but by then, the edge of the book that stuck out of his backpack had bored a hole in his soul that could only be fixed by fulfilling his curiosity.

and so, he reached into his bag and eased the journal from its place.

he opened the front cover and gasped. there was a page that was meant to remain blank, but was instead scrawled on in michael’s messy (but fitting to the person luke wanted to believe he saw every day in history) handwriting. _to luke: i really meant to tell you all these things, but i suppose it’s come to the point where i can’t actually say anything to you without feeling like i’m going to burst into flames._

luke flipped through the journal, page by page, and nearly began crying at the beauty of everything in it. all these lyrics, dedicated to him. poetry, devoted to michael’s feelings towards him. and the best part, the beautiful drawings etched onto the page. of luke, sitting in class, riding a motorcycle, or (his personal favorite) cartoon luke sitting on a stone wall with cartoon michael, holding hands and sharing headphones.

there was even a drawing from the previous day, with a side-view of bored luke saying “i’m deeply sorry.” luke chuckled at that one.

part of him almost wished that he hadn’t looked in it. that he had let michael leave it to him when he was ready. but the other part of him was glad that he knew, because now he could say something about it to michael and no longer have to be in the dark about him.

luke knew that he was going to have an interesting conversation on monday, but he also knew that it would turn out (hopefully) in his favor.

 

_you're just a little bit out of my limit_

_it's been two years now, you haven't even seen the best of me_

_and in my mind now i’ve been over this a thousand times_

_and it's almost over_

_let's start over_

__

-

on monday afternoon, luke walked into history. michael already sat in the back corner where he usually was, but he looked frazzled and, well, as much like a mess as a beautiful boy could look. he obviously had barely slept all weekend, and luke really hoped it wasn’t his fault for keeping the stupid journal.

 _no, not the stupid journal,_ luke said to himself, _the wonderful journal full of beautiful things about me, luke hemmings, ordinary high school boy._

he placed his backpack into his seat and pulled out michael’s journal. before he could talk himself out of it, he walked to the back corner of the room and slid it onto the desk.

michael looked up at him. his green eyes were brimming with tears. “you looked in it, didn’t you?” he asked. luke couldn’t gather up the courage to say yes, so instead he just shrugged and returned to his chair.

michael silently cried for awhile. he should have known better than to think someone like luke would reciprocate feelings like that. he probably wasn’t even gay, after all. why should michael have bothered?

finally though, he pulled himself together enough to look through the book and make sure nothing had been tainted. and no, nothing had. but there was a page with extra words, written in someone else’s black sharpie chicken scratches.

_you’re not the only one who can write a song -_

_when i close my eyes and try to sleep_

_i fall apart and find it hard to breathe_

_and you’re the reason, the only reason_

_even though my dizzy head is numb_

_i swear my heart is never giving up_

_and you’re the reason_

_the only reason._

__

_and michael? this whole book is beautiful._

_♥ lukey_

michael’s tears dried and he had a hard time resisting the urge to get luke’s attention from across the room. so instead he wrote a note and then took a bathroom pass. on his way back through the row of desks, he dropped the note onto luke’s, and then retreated to the corner.

if things were going as they seemed, michael thought this could have been the last day he sat sheltered in the back of the class.

and he didn’t mind.

-

after class, luke lingered in the classroom, as did michael.

“you read it,” michael said, referring to the note he had dropped earlier.

“of course i did.”

“the book -- i was going to give you it later.”

“i’m glad you left it, though. was tired of watching from afar.”

the two talked for awhile longer. mr. pike remained in the room, tidying up his desk and erasing the whiteboard.

however, when luke and michael shared their first kiss that afternoon, mr. pike left the room, leaving only a note on the board. _don’t think i never saw the way you two watched each other. you can thank me for this later._

which, of course, they did.

-

_how did we end up talking in the first place?_

_you said you liked my cobain shirt_

_now we're walking back to your place_

_you're telling me how you love that song_

_about living on a prayer_

_i'm pretty sure that we're halfway there_

_And when i wake up next to you i wonder how_

_how did we end up here?_

 

♥ fin

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos + comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> i really hope you liked it c:


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